Chinese Takeout, Vampire Style
by 4MeJasper
Summary: Shamelessly lifted from the movie Vampires Suck.  College student Bella makes a delivery for her boss, Mr. Wong, when his delivery guy has car troubles.  Only the delivery is to three hot vampires...why would they want Chinese food?
1. Chapter 1

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, although she might disown me if she gets a load of this little gem…

OK – I admit it, I got this idea from _Vampires Suck_, the Chinese Food delivery scene…

_I would like to thank the fabulous betas, including Mel, at Project Team Beta for helping me with this story._

Chapter 1 – What's on the Menu?

The impatient voices from the crowded restaurant seemed to be coming at me from every direction.

"Order up!" called Sammy's voice from the back of the restaurant as he rang the little bell on the counter to get my attention.

"Miss, more water please," called a young woman with two fussy children sitting at a table in the front. The children were playing with the pull string of the restaurant's "Open/Closed" sign, which they kept flicking on and off.

"What's this supposed to be?" asked a well-dressed man in a pin-striped suit, gazing in disgust at a plate of Kung Pao chicken as I passed by his table with the water pitcher.

"I'll be right with you, sir," I replied as pleasantly as possible for the end of my five-hour shift.

Another night at Wong's Chinese Food. I had to keep reminding myself that though the tips weren't always great, I needed to keep my eye on the prize: getting through college.

To top it all off, Mr. Wong was upset. He was a good employer. In addition to being fair and paying us what he could, he knew we were college kids, and that we didn't always get great tips. He was OK if we had to sometimes stay home to study instead of working our scheduled hours, as he could ask his own daughter to cover the occasional shift. But at this moment, he was upset. His delivery guy's car had broken down across town, and he had just called in to advise us he was still waiting for the auto club. Now Mr. Wong had a big order, and no driver to deliver it.

Ready to kill any other diner who asked me for anything else, I looked up and said, "I've got my car. I'll take it for you, since it's near the end of my shift anyway."

Mr. Wong looked at me and then looked at the address again. "It's a hotel, and it's not in the greatest part of town," he said. "I'm not sure I want you down there."

Glancing at the address, I replied, "Mr. Wong, that hotel is two blocks from my apartment. I don't live in the greatest part of town. I'll take it over, and if would make you feel more comfortable, I won't go up to the room. I'll leave it at the front desk of the hotel. OK?"

He considered this for a moment and then shrugged. "It's a big order, and I can't afford to lose the customers or the revenue. You have car insurance, right?" he added as an afterthought.

"My dad's a cop. You think he would let me drive without it?"

"No, but do you pay your bills?" he continued. "If you're not paying your bill, the insurance expires."

I pulled out my insurance I.D. card and showed it to him.

"OK," he replied after looking at it carefully. "They're also asking for a bottle of tequila, sounded like some young guys. I could hear other voices over the phone. I'll go across the street and get it; you're too young. No argument, please. And you can take the rest of the night off, I'll pay you."

I carried the bags of take-out food to my beast of an orange truck, moving my papers, backpack and other junk out of the seat, while Mr. Wong went to the liquor store to purchase the booze. He handed it to me, thanking me again, and went back inside. I set off for my neighborhood.

When I got to Lowe's Hotel, I lucked out when I found a parking spot in front. _Good, I won't have to lug this food very far_, I thought with relief.

Entering the hotel, I walked up to the front desk where an older man with oily skin, greasy black hair, and a stained gray polo t-shirt glanced up at me. "I'm supposed to leave this for the Smith party," I told him.

"They're in room 505," he said.

"No, I'm supposed to leave it here," I replied firmly. 

The clerk raised his eyebrows. "And how will you get your tip, then, girlie? 'Cause I'm sure not going to give you one. Not if you're just delivering food," he continued with a leer, raking me over with his eyes. _Jerk,_ I thought. _As if._

He had a point, though. No use passing up the opportunity for a tip. I walked over to the elevator, only to find a hand-written "Out of Service" sign taped across the front of the doors.

_Great, just great_, I thought. _And_ _505 will be on the 5__th__ floor_. I found the stairwell and opened the door, nearly gagging on the smell of stale urine and other nasty stuff I didn't even want to think about. I started climbing, stepping over the used condoms and other litter, not daring to touch the banister that was covered with wads of gum, among other less identifiable items.

After what seemed an eternity in that stairwell, I finally reached the fifth floor.

I opened the door and walked down the faded carpeting that ran down the hall. The flickering lights of the dark hallway made finding the right doorway a bit of a challenge.

_501, 502, 503, 504…yep, 505_. Knocking on the door, I looked around, wondering why anyone would choose to stay in a place like this. As I heard the doorknob of room 505 move, I turned to face the slowly opening door, putting a smile on my face. _Think of the tip_, I told myself.

The door opened, but the lights inside the room were very low. A low chuckle came from the figure standing in the dark doorway.

"Well, this is unexpected," said a male voice with an exaggerated southern drawl. "Lookie what we have here!"

I started to get a bad feeling and decided to set the food on the floor, backing slowly away from the door.

"Sorry," said the voice, and the lights were switched on inside the room. "We had the lights down because my friend was…dozing." Leaning against the door, looking like sex on two legs, was a blond man in jeans and a vintage Zeppelin t-shirt that pulled nicely across his taut muscles. 

Two more guys appeared in the entranceway, peering around the first one's shoulders. The second man was huge with dark curly hair, while the third had messy red-brown hair that looked almost bronze.

But what startled me the most was their eyes. I could swear that when he opened the door, the first man's eyes were red. Now they were black, just like those of his two friends. And the black eyes of all three of them were boring straight into me like knives.

PLEASE REVIEW. I WILL SEND AN EXCERPT FROM THE NEXT CHAPTER TO ALL REVIEWERS.


	2. Chapter 2

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, although she might disown me if she gets a load of this little gem…

OK – I admit it, I got this idea from _Vampires Suck_, the Chinese Food delivery scene…

Author's note – In this story, vampires have fangs, just as they did in the movie _Vampires Suck_.

_I would like to thank the fabulous betas, including Mel, at Project Team Beta for helping me with this story._

Chapter 2 – Who's the Chinese food for?

_Two more guys appeared in the entranceway, peering around the first one's shoulders. The second man was huge with dark curly hair, and the third had messy red-brown hair that looked almost bronze._

_But what startled me the most was their eyes. I could swear that when he opened the door, the first man's eyes were red. Now they were black, just like those of his two friends. And the black eyes of all three of them were boring straight into me like knives._

The blond man stepped back and motioned for me to enter. "Can you put the food on the table, please? I'll get my credit card."

"Cash only," I managed to say. "I heard Mr. Wong tell you that over the phone." It seemed as though the air was vanishing from the room, and I was beginning to feel dizzy.

He leaned across the table after I put the food down, pulling a $100 bill from his wallet and handing it to me.

"The order was $45.26," I said. "I don't have change for that."

"That's OK," he replied smoothly.

The other two had moved to the ratty sofa by the window and were pretending to watch TV. But I could feel their eyes on my back.

"Believe it or not, we're not interested in the food," the blond replied. A booming laugh came from the sofa, must have been the big guy. "The tequila though…" He grabbed a few of those plastic cups with rings along the base that are left in the bathrooms of hotels. "Join us?" he purred at me.

"I should really go. I'll ask the guy downstairs if he has change for $100. He might…" I began.

"But no, we are just starting to get acquainted…you don't want to leave now. Have a seat, darling,'" he said, gesturing to one of the rickety chairs set up around an equally rickety dinette style Formica topped table from the 1960s. "Didn't the owner give you the rest of the night off?"

"How did you…wait, did he…" I stammered, confused.

"Just a lucky guess, because of the hour. You're not his regular delivery man, are you?" he asked.

"Look, I'm just going to leave. I have an exam tomorrow morning that I've got to study for."

He got closer, staring at me intently, and suddenly I lost my will to move. I ended up sitting down in one of those rickety chairs after all. It rocked a little, but it didn't collapse under my weight.

"That's better," he said. "Let's start again. My name is Jasper, and these are my brothers Emmett" the big man gave a friendly nod at his name, "and Edward" the bronze-haired man gave me a slight movement of his head.

"You guys are brothers?" I asked, trying desperately to make conversation, just to stall a little. I had to clear my head.

Edward and Emmett left their perches on the sofa and joined us at the table. I noticed Emmett sat down rather gingerly, as if he also expected the chair to collapse under his weight.

"So, Spin the Bottle?" asked Jasper, tilting his head back to regard me with an impish grin, while he began twirling the tequila bottle under his right hand.

"No," I said softly. "I like to play poker."

This answer earned a fist pump and an enthusiastic, "Yes!" from Emmett.

"And if you win…you get to leave and go back to your apartment and your boring life, assuming you still want to, that is," said Jasper, looking at me from under hooded eyelids.

"Where else would I go?" I stammered out.

"With us, of course. We're on a little trip, and we could use some feminine company," he said in a seductive tone that made my toes curl while at the same time making my brain scream, "No, you idiot."

Unfortunately for me, I'm very bad at listening to my brain.

"OK," I said, "but I get to deal."

A deck of cards appeared on the table, though I swear I never saw any of them put it there.

I removed the cards from the packet, and began to shuffle them. Fortunately, years of playing with my dad and Billy had made the act of shuffling almost a reflex, so my nerves didn't show.

I dealt in silence.

"Aren't you guys going to eat?" I asked suddenly, remembering why I had come to the hotel room in the first place. "The food doesn't get better as it cools off."

"We weren't really interested in the food, per se," said Edward, as Emmett chuckled.

We all picked up our cards and splayed them in front of us, examining the hand Lady Luck had dealt us. Emmett made a show of holding his cards close to his massive chest, bending his head down to look at them in an exaggerated manner. "No fair peeking, Eddie-boy," he said.

"Wouldn't dream of it, after all, that would imply there was a brain to peek into," Edward snapped back.

What the heck? Well, guys are weird, and they just talk.

I was having trouble concentrating on my cards due to Jasper's steady stare. It didn't help that he occasionally ran his tongue over his lips. I almost moaned, thinking about those lips on mine, but I kept it together_. This is stupid, just get up and walk out,_ I kept telling myself.

Jasper poured me a little more tequila. Emmett made a comment about going out for food and started to get out of his chair.

"What's wrong with the Chinese?" I asked.

"Nothing, we were just expecting…something different," Emmett replied, as he and Edward tossed their cards onto the table and left. Despite his size, Emmett moved without a sound.

"What shall we bet?" asked Jasper after they left.

"I don't really have anything on me," I replied.

"That $100 bill?" Jasper suggested.

"The money belongs to Mr. Wong," I snapped, a bit more harshly than I intended.

"Your innocence," proposed Jasper so softly that I wasn't sure I heard him.

"My what? Oh, you missed that a long time ago, cowboy," I replied shakily, keeping my head down, while trying to suppress a blush.

"OK then, how about a taste?" he said. To my surprise, two fangs lowered themselves in his mouth as he said that. A vampire? For real? And for some reason, I didn't doubt it. Nothing seemed too weird tonight. To my shock, I found myself thinking about just how much fun it would be to lick those fangs. I started blushing furiously and concentrated on my cards.

Jasper watched me with a startled expression, and then laughed. "Well, maybe we could both get what we want," he said suggestively.

_Forget the game._ I shook my head, trying in vain to clear it, but then gave up. I leaned across the table, wanting to lick those fangs so much that I forgot all about winning and going home. He held still, waiting for me to reach him. As I leaned on the rickety table on my forearms, he wrapped me in his arms and carried me to the sofa in a flash. We had a slight battle with our tongues, and then I started to do some serious tongue work on those fangs. After his initial surprise, I felt a purr coming up from his throat.

Eventually he kissed his way down my arm. When he got to my wrist, he looked up at me, his eyes asking permission for his teeth to descend.

I nodded mutely, at which he smiled and bit down. The initial sting had been sharp, but then a glowing feeling started to run through my body.

I was beginning to get light-headed, so I started to tap then shake his shoulder. "Ummm…" I said. I had some notion that if he was going to kill me he would have gone for my neck.

He broke off and stopped his sucking. He licked the wound on my wrist luxuriously, as if tasting some kind of fine delicacy, then carefully ran his tongue around his lips, and finished his clean-up by dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Looking up at me, he moved back up to my face and kissed me again.

"You taste glorious, little one," he said softly. "And you're not afraid of me. That's not really in your best interest."

"Neither is delivering Chinese food in this neighborhood," I replied.

He smiled. "Your delivery days are over, then."

Hours later, the other two returned. Jasper and I were lying on the sofa on our backs. He had me wrapped in his arms, stroking my hair.

As they came in, Emmett said, "Whoa! What happened?"

"I won," I replied.

"Really now?" Emmett said with smirk.

"Maybe I let her win," Jasper said with a growing grin.

My stomach growled, and Jasper looked down at me with a concerned look.

Emmett picked up the hotel phone, looking over at me. "What am I ordering?"

"Pizza," I replied. "No more Chinese take-out for me."

PLEASE REVIEW.

AT THIS POINT, I'M NOT SURE IF I WILL CONTINUE THE STORY, AS KIND OF FEELS COMPLETE AT THIS POINT. BUT I HAVE A FEW ADDITIONAL EPISODES RATTLING AROUND IN MY BRAIN, SO IF YOU LEAVE A REVIEW, I WILL SEND YOU AN EXCERPT IF/WHEN THEY MAKE IT TO PAPER.


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